Moonflower
by dosei no otohime
Summary: The sun will go down on Mars tonight. And the shadows always seem longer after a blue sunset melts into a crimson sky. Spike sings his solo there, and dances alone with the shadows in dreams. NO LEMON Updating soon!
1. Chapter 1

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Disclaimer – I don't own this show, and that's all I'm going to say. I own nothing, not even merchandise! *cries* But I'm getting an Ed keychain soon! Weeee!!!

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Content – I'm sticking to the basic content of the show… which means darkness, fight scenes, blood, cigarettes and sarcasm. This is totally Spike's point of view.

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Moonflower

Chapter 1

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It was dark, here. And she was, here. She was close to me, this faceless woman, close enough for that milky skin to be breathed in, as it were scented with a velvety fragrance. Her dark hair seemed to curl itself around me as her fingers touched my spine, like I had been warned she would do. I was wrapped in her cocoon of raven feather colored spirals of hair and hands of poured black-market ivory. Somehow, I knew, but somehow, I didn't care either.

"You're dreaming my nightmares," she said to me, she whispered. Then she leaned in closer to me, nose touching my neck. I knew. 

And so the spell was somehow broken between me. I tried to get her away, off me, away from me. I ripped at her soft jacket and necklace. I tore at it, because somehow I knew.

Falling pearls…

The sound of falling pearls…

It began as a tiny sound on the pavement, rushing on to the growth of being a gigantic waterfall. It escalated, then fell, then rushed right back to my ears and running through to my brain. It pushed me to an edge I had never imagined my self ever going near. And I still knew.

My limbs were frozen under her touch. I felt as if I was sliding through the thickened waters of hot springs and onto the sand on the bottom of turquoise seas, and yet I had not moved nor swayed in any of the four winds' directions. She touched my cheek and I felt her smile, sadly. Her crimson petal lips moved again, parting the sound like it had been merely the waters of the Red Sea.

"They used to be just moons…"

And that's when the world fell away beneath me. There was no more pavement, no more pearls… nothing more than silence. I opened my eyes and saw the sky, and to me it seemed only to be a veil of deep purple, speckled with glued on rhinestones that caught the light so that they glimmered. I smiled. "Isn't it funny? I used to think it was… real," I said, but yet no vibration of air had passed through my closed mouth. Her head bent to the side, almost like she had died as she clung to me, but her breath was still ever present on my neck, each exhale brushing my skin like feathers. I knew, God I knew…

And so, through stilled lips, I screamed. 

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A beeping noise rose from the darkness. I opened my eyes.

"Huh?" it fell from my lips as if it were alien to every part of me, like I had truly fallen through the looking glass and into a world of white rabbits and red queens. But everything seemed normal enough. We were going to Mars weren't we? Yeah, we were. I remembered. 

I wiped my hand up and my face and into my hair, feeling the cold sweat the dream had created. Why had it come again, this dream? It had occurred a few nights ago, leaving me detached with the realness it held. 

The air was filled with a distinct smell, an almost ominous scent sometimes. It depended on the mood of the cook, I suppose. 

The beeping came again.

"Spike, could you get that?" Jet called from the kitchen over the sizzle of vegetables in oil. I groaned and moved my hand over to the convenient keyboard. I pressed the Enter button and tried to go back to sleep, though the recent prints of my dreaming were still present behind my eyes. The woman haunted me with her words and sounds… why was it another woman? One woman was already here in the present and the other left to blurry memories and distant sounds. I didn't need another one.

"Jet? Is anyone there? Hello?"

It was Bob, one of Jet's old comrades or something. I knew his voice like I knew his face, bearded and tan. With one finger, I turned Jet's laptop towards me. "Yeah?" I asked, pulling my arm back to my side. It felt warm there, pushed halfway under my ribs.

"Oh, it's you again. Where's Jet?"

I didn't even open my eyes to reply. "Cooking up a storm," I said, smirking just a little bit.

There was a pause.

"Oh," he said. I didn't say anything. Somehow, my thoughts drifted back to the woman.

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Falling pearls…

The sound of falling pearls…

He sighed. "Swell, he's cooking. It's a miracle you guys aren't dead," he said then chuckled a bit. I finally sat up to look at the screen. Bob was sitting at his desk, as usual, sifting through some papers. "But, seriously, I've got some new info on some new guy that the Feds want in their hands. Since you're in the territory anyway, I thought you might be a bit interested. The guy's worth… uh, twenty million woolongs."

"I'm listening."

Bob coughed a bit to clear his throat. "Derek Gene Johnson, some kid. He's wanted for trying to destroy some facility on Europa. I dunno, too much of this has red tape wrapped around it. I'll feed you the info now. But I just wanted to tell you guys…"

As the new file loaded up and the information was displayed, I pulled on my grey shirt, adjusting the twisted parts to fit their right places. I then pulled out a broken cigarette and lit the handicapped thing to put it out of its misery.

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Falling pearls…

'Damnit,' I thought, cursing the woman with no eyes or features for the mind to grasp.

"…cause you're in the area, and I thought you might take up the challenge."

I shrugged, dismissing both the thought of a challenge coming from this and the image of the woman floating through my head. "Rebellious teenagers have no sense of style," I said. Then I sighed, breath falling out like some sort of broken chorus. He didn't like talking to me. I made him nervous inside somehow. Maybe it was because he knew too, like I had in the illusion during sleep. He'd read through to my Syndicate past maybe? Bob usually spoke to Jet, laughing about old times with the occasional insertion of an inside joke, but to me he moved as if he were pulled with levers and a mix of springs and wires. He was always straight to the point with me. 

I clicked through the file, overriding the stream video of Bob. The bountyhead was just some stupid kid, wanted the freedom of the people held within the prison on Europa or something, called the buildings "concentration camps" and the leader of Europa a "modern-day Hitler"… whatever _that_ meant. I minimized the window, putting me back to Bob.

I blew the smoke out from behind my lips slowly. "So what's the kid's motivation?" I asked. The terms he used didn't make much sense to me anyway. Bob shrugged through the computer. "He been protesting the prisons for years, says the government won't let out the information about how they're torturing the inmates, performing experiments and that kind of junk. He's the vice president of an organization called Lavender Freedom. Pretty name, but the group's got a bad rep for destruction," he said. Pictures loaded as he spoke. I saw a blonde kid in all the pictures, never seeming to be different in any of them. The boy held the angry look that I had carried in the frustrated part of my youth… and lots of hardware. He was constantly pictured with a gun in his hand, or someone around him held one for him. 

"Lot of action in just a few years…"

Bob raised an eyebrow. "Decades, you mean," he corrected, "This kid's stumbled onto either the fountain of youth or a very skilled plastic surgeon. His face hasn't changed in _years_, and neither has his intentions." I sat there a moment, saying nothing.

"So are you going to or not?"

"Some kid with a good doctor and some cash who happened to play with a little dynamite on Europa…"

"It's a big bounty."

"Twenty million sounds like it's too much. I don't like this…"

I put out the cigarette in a nearby cup of coffee. "But I'm going," I said with a grin lifting on one side of my face. Bob smiled. "Good. He was last seen on Mars… he hides well, so don't expect to find him right away. 'Night Spike," he said and shut off the com. I blinked at the abruptness in his leaving. 

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Falling pearls…

"So who was that?" Jet asked, coming up behind me with a wok-fry in his hand, still sizzling as he stirred it. I smelled the mushrooms and onions of the fried vegetables. I turned back to him, jerking a thumb in the direction of the laptop. "That," I said, "was your good friend Bob, and he just gave me something to do besides sleep."

Jet grinned. "You mean square-dancing?" he joked. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my jacket off of the back of the couch, slinging it over my shoulder. I peered into the dish. "What's in it?" I asked, peering in, steam invading my nostrils and condensing on my cheeks. Jet looked in it with me. This made me a little uneasy…

"Mushrooms, onions, carrots, bell pepp–"

"Well, then, count me out," I said, heading towards the hangar. 

In the hallways lay Edward, sleeping and quietly mumbling pudding oriented things. the strange tanned sprite had her head laying on top on Ein. I carefully stepped over her and crawled through the space to the hangar, closing the door slowly. 

I stepped into the _Swordfish II _and closed the hatch, grabbing the controls.

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Falling pearls…

The sound of falling pearls…

'Damn dreams…' I thought as my ship was thrust into space in the direction of Mars.

. This first chapter aggravated me, and it still does. So tell me what you think before I drag myself down into the wallowing pits of writer's block. Praise me, poke me, or beat me with a flaming stick… I personally don't give a bowl of Cheerios which of those you wish to leave with my story. 

And, in case you didn't know, Europa is one of Jupiter's moons.


	2. Chapter 2

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Disclaimer – I don't own this show, and that's all I'm going to say. I have my Ed keychain now! And the soundtrack to the movie!!

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Content – I'm sticking to the basic content of the show… which means darkness, fight scenes, blood, cigarettes and sarcasm. This is totally Spike's point of view. And this specific chapter is going to happen on Mars. Like Earth has a blue sky with red sunsets, Mars has a red one with blue sunsets. (I read it in a science book, so **HA!** to anybody who thinks it's a dumb idea!)

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Moonflower

Chapter 2

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The sun streamed in through the open door, warming my back through my shirt. Beside my cheek sat a warming shot of bourbon, watery from the melted ice mixing with the liquor. I settled my cheek into a more comfortable place on my arm. My brain felt like it had been jostled from its wire attachments. I sighed. It never did me much good, to drink while I was on the job. But I was running out of ideas, and money. Every lead I had turned into some rumor that needed to be proven before I could move on with it. Once, a little old lady said she had seen him, and that he was black, nine feet tall and carried a pitchfork wherever he went. I had raised an eyebrow about this and mumbled something about "Farmer Shaq" before thanking her and going on my way. The days had been worthless.

I needed to get out of here, this bar, quick. Besides the fact that I needed to find the bountyhead before Faye came along and screwed it up, but I swore the bartender was making eyes at me. That kind of guy made me nervous. My head buzzed as I thought of Faye. Damnit, I always hate it when I drink.

I shifted, opening one eye, my right one. The bartender was wiping up spills from men worse intoxicated than me. I looked at him, the edges of his form blurring as I opened my other eye. Maybe I should ask him. He was a person who saw lots of people come and go. No, no wait. _I am not having an encounter like I did on Callisto_,I thought, then stood up and pulled my coat out from under my feet. I left a little money on the counter, to cover what large amount of liquor I had drunk in my time at the bar. Then I left, walking out with as much direction as I did when I entered. 

The streets were busy with people as I entered the red filtered sunlight, away from the dark place that my drunken soul decided to pool. I stepped down the few steps, thin and narrow, so I skipped them two at a time. I lit a cigarette at the bottom.

Then wondered where Faye was.

It had been nearly five days since the _Swordfish II _had docked on Mars. I expected her around every corner, her plum highlighted head bobbing up from the shadows with an innocent grin, trademark of the mystical Cheshire Cat, who also had the habit of appearing without warning. She would be waving that deadly weapon of hers, her charming sense of tough sarcasm and radical moods, and she would be waving her gun, too.

Jesus, I hate it when I drink…
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Falling pearls…

I shook my head sharply. I hate it even more when I dream.

I began walking. I puffed my cigarette as I did. It would get my mind off of everything… the dream, the woman, the ache in my heels, the bartender, the fact that I wasn't lucky, the liquor in my belly, and the nagging memories. 

A few more steps... boots on concrete…

It vaguely occurred to me that I was headed downtown. It was where I was staying, so it didn't matter, since I needed to get somewhere else fast. I felt disconnected and I needed to sleep it, and the bourbon, off. I looked up as I walked, not even caring if I was somehow walking into a void. The red sky was turning purple, a signal that the sky would soon turn into a cocktail of colors, mostly blue. Then night would come. 

An impact was felt on my chest. Someone had bumped into me. She let out a cry as she fell to the ground, groceries splaying all around her as the brown bag capsized and spilled. 

"Sorry!" my lips blurted out before I could think. Now I felt stupid, coiled inside as she sat on the ground, knees together as she glared up at me, lacquered lips pursed, golden hair thrown from its style. I nearly chuckled, she reminded me so much of too many women I already knew. I began scooping up her groceries, careful not to put tomatoes or peaches on the bottom. I hoisted the bag up into my arms and then extended a hand. "Here," I said. She accepted, and, as I pulled her from the Martian floor, her hair flashed in the filtered sun. And, in that moment, I saw she had Julia's hair, the waves of gold. But as I looked into her forgiving face with a string of hope spun into my heart, I saw her eyes were irises of black, and so the string became unraveled. To cover disappointment, I merely smiled before pulling her to her feet. 

"The name's Maria."

Her accent was Romanian, touched with Spanish, and, even though she wanted to be soft, her words were tough skinned and still had a touch of their regular poison. Yeah, this planet had a way of doing that to you.

I handed her the grocery bag. "Spike," I said. She blinked at me, not fully understanding what I meant. "It's my name," I confirmed. "Oh?" she said and took a good long look at me, starting at my boots and going to the top of my hair. "What's an upper-class kind of guy like you doing in a dirt joint like this?" she questioned. I nearly laughed. Upper-class? Hardly. I was nearly broke, shared a ship with too many weird roommates, and the _Swordfish II_ wasn't in that great of shape. "I'm a cowboy," I said. She gave me an understanding look. "So you're the guy after Derek Johnson…" she said and started walking, heeled boots clicking on the concrete. Wait a sec, how did she know?

"Hey Maria! Wait up!"

She did, and we walked together. We were side by side, but we didn't look at each other while we spoke, at least she never did. I looked over sometimes, but she never fixed those onyx eyes on my form. 

"What did you mean by that?" I asked her. 

"Just some rumors. You're after Derek for the bounty."

"You know him?"

"Not personally, but I know the name through affiliates."

"And who are those affiliates?"

She smiled and turned to me, those dark eyes gleaming. "If I told you that, I'd have to kill you. You understand don't you?"

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. "Yeah. You're another Syndicate girl."

She raised her finger in protest. "Not exactly, just familiar ties. And don't scorn against the Syndicates, especially since you're ex-Syn yourself. But, I will warn you. You're being watched, Spike Spiegel."

Being _watched_?

"Hold on a second…" I said. She stopped. "Yes?" she didn't try to look innocent when she said it either. "Watched by who?"

She shook her head. "I already told you, knowing that information would get you killed, though they might just do that anyway. They'll probably try to get you tonight, since you're so close to Derek already. Sleep with your boots on, or whatever you cowboys do."

She smiled again. "Good. Now, if you'll pardon me, I have to depart. 'Bye," she said and waved. Then the crowd swallowed her whole. I sighed, then groaned. She had been the biggest lead in three days, after I had asked the grocer about it. Now, she was lost. 

I spun on my heel. She would be seen again, since she had warned me of forces and powers I hadn't known about. She had some ties with the mafia of Mars, was somehow in their circle of comrades. I _knew_ she was. I'd piss myself if she were a Red Dragon girl. Maybe she was, and maybe that's why she had Julia's hair. It had to be some kind of sick fetish for Vicious, to grab onto her hair and kiss her in the same savage manner he had once kissed beauty itself. And he probably made her close her eyes until he was done with her, because they weren't the right color. I shook the image out of my head. But whether she was a member of the Red Dragons or just a local gossip with the right names and numbers, she would be back. Until then, I would sleep with my boots on, so the rattlesnakes wouldn't bite at my heels. 

I headed down the street, to the hotel where I was staying. I threw the cigarette to the ground before I pushed the door open. The meeting with Maria had frustrated me even more. I started towards my upstairs room.

"Hold on there, sir!" shouted the man behind the counter. I turned. "I have a message for you," he said, pulling open a drawer in his desk. He handed me a single white envelope. I took it. "Thanks," I said and gave a saluting wave and went back to going up the stairs. 

I fell onto the bed, tired and shirtless now. I stared at the envelope. Who in the hell could've sent me a message? I held it a minute longer then ripped it open.

Inside was a single piece of paper, folded once in the middle. 

"Try not to dream tonight."

That was all it said.

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Falling pearls…

The sound of falling pearls…

"Oh damn…" I groaned and let my arm fall to the bed, note still between my fingers. I stared up at the ceiling, pondering why they monitored me. Bob had warned me of the red tape, but not of the mafia or their wandering beauties with mysterious clues and comrades. Why was Derek Johnson so damn special?

Then the ceiling blurred. My eyes became heavy as slumber overtook me. And then I slept. 

Tell me what you think!


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